


Ineffable Kissing From An Ineffable Argument

by sapphics_girl



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, i'm always thinkin' of The Boys, this is just a small thing my big dumb dumb head thought of @ 1:30 AM, this is why i cant sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-23 20:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20214916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphics_girl/pseuds/sapphics_girl
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley make out, what more do you animals want from me?





	Ineffable Kissing From An Ineffable Argument

**Author's Note:**

> I literally wrote this @ 1:30 in the morning. I'm sorry if it's bad. And as always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.

They had been bickering and spitting insults at one another for...  
Aziraphale pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time.  
Thirty minutes now.

Beelzebub and Gabriel had stopped him and Crowley on their way back to his bookshop after a lovely evening out, and the unusual pair of Prince and Archangel erupted into a bitter argument after Crowley purposefully brought up what sounded like a rather embarrassing incident involving a red dress, a roll of duct tape, and a sliver of chocolate cheesecake.

Aziraphale didn't understand what happened, nor did he particularly want to ask, or want to know why it made the Prince of Hell flush a bright red and snarl at Crowley in a way that can only be described as purely venomous; and made Gabriel groan and throw a passive-aggressive comment at Beelzebub for not smiting Crowley on the spot when "that annoying snake" sauntered into their bedroom and got a full view of... whatever they were doing.

All he knew was that the two had been arguing long enough to completely forget the purpose of their visit, and seemingly forget about Crowley's and his existence. Aziraphale looked around at the human bystanders that were gawking at the outburst and grabbed at Crowley's hand. All he wanted to do was go home and snuggle down next to his companion with a book, really, but these two were making it almost impossible. He expected Crowley to look over and ask what was wrong, but what came out of the demon's mouth as he stared at the pair opposite left Aziraphale's mouth agape.

"We should make out right now."

The angel swallowed hard as a blush rose to his cheeks.

"... Excuse me?"

"We should. Make. Out." The demon half-whispered. "Look at 'em, they barely know we exist right now." To prove his point, he took his free hand from his pocket and waved it right beside their faces. There was no reaction to the movement. "We could ssslip down one of these back ways and, y'know..."

At this moment in time, Aziraphale paused. He even stopped breathing for a moment. Six-thousand years. Six-thousand years of buried lust and push-down love potentially coming undone with the help of two of the most sadistic beings the angel had ever met. He had fantasized about kissing Crowley many times and being able to truly let his lust out from under lock and key. None of these fantasies involved the Prince of Hell arguing with Aziraphale's boss about killing Crowley over witnessing something he shouldn't have. But, when an opportunity presents itself, it's better to go with the best option out of the rest.

"... We should."

Crowley, despite propositioning the angel to a session of heaving kissing and feeling-up, seemed genuinely shocked at Aziraphale's agreement. His cheeks began to glow a hot red as he looked down at his angel.

"Wait, really?"

Aziraphale tugged him down a narrow side street, leading him by his hand. It took a moment for Crowley's long legs to get moving on their own as he stumbled to follow his angel.

"Come now, dear, we haven't got long. They're bound to figure out we're gone some time."

They walked for a few minutes until Aziraphale paused and turned to face the demon behind him, pushing him against one of the uncomfortably close walls. Crowley audibly swallowed when he met Aziraphale's gaze then glanced down at his lips, his slender hands scrambling for _something_ to cling onto before settling on the angel's hips. There was no warning, no words; just the soft "nngck" sound that Crowley made when Aziraphale closed the gap between them, the angel's hands gripping onto the leather lapels of the demon's jacket like his life depended on it.

Aziraphale's lips were soft and tasted a bit like whipped cream, as Crowley found out; and Crowley's lips were slightly chapped and tasted similar to a rich red wine, to Aziraphale's delight. When Crowley nibbled at his lover's bottom lip, Aziraphale whimpered deliciously into his mouth. The demon could get _very_ used to this; to hearing those sweet, sweet sounds and feeling his lips move in tandem with his. Although they didn't need to break for air, Aziraphale broke the kiss after a minute or two, panting, lips kiss-bruised and red from the use of teeth and the lashes from tongue. 

"_Nhgh_... pulled away too soon." Crowley breathed. "You're a good kisser, Angel."

Aziraphale quirked a shy smile in response, his pupils blown wide and hands trembling ever so slightly.

"I-I liked that. The... kissing." The angel whispered. "It makes me feel... strange."

The "strange" that Aziraphale was referring to was his corporeal body needing, wanting more and more, lusting after the adrenaline of kissing and touching and breathing in _him. _While these are natural feelings to a born human, to an aetherial being-- they're quite alien-- especially if you're not technically supposed to lust and desire sin. But this feeling was not unknown to Crowley. As a demon, you are tasked to do things. Temptation things. Like kissing. While he rarely ever went beyond the initial make-out sessions with his targets (the lust coaxed from that was enough to put down on paperwork so he could get Hell to shut up and leave him be), none of them compared to _this. _None of them made his heart flutter like feeling Aziraphale, the sensations of getting his lover closer and closer to the source of his very obvious and unsatiated desire that he knew only himself could fix made his head spin.

It was intoxicating. 

Aziraphale leaned in once more, capturing his lover's lips, savoring the embers lit downwards along his spine and the butterflies beating away in his stomach. Crowley's hands moved backward and up, pulling Aziraphale closer by the small of his back, drawing a gasp from the angel. Eventually, they broke away again. Not for an opportunity to calm down and gather themselves, but because they heard a recognizable pair of heavy, angry footsteps drawing nearer.

"How about we continue this somewhere more... private, angel?"

"I couldn't agree more."


End file.
